I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 86: You would be dead if I wanted to

Malvoria watched as Elysia fumed, her glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

It was ridiculous.

The way her cheeks were slightly puffed out, her lips pressed in a thin line, her purple eyes sparking with frustration—it was almost adorable.

Almost.

Malvoria cleared her throat, forcing herself back to reality.

This was not something she should be thinking about.

She had already let things spiral too far.

Saving Elysia had been necessary. Ensuring her survival, practical. Even treating her wounds had made sense.

But this?

Bringing her food? Teasing her? Feeding her?

This was the kind of thing she shouldn't be doing.

Because it led to attachment.

And attachment was dangerous.

Malvoria knew that better than anyone.

She had spent years ensuring that nothing—no one—could be used as leverage against her. She had built her power on the foundation that she could not be swayed, that she could rule without the weight of unnecessary emotion.

But then Elysia had looked at her with those defiant, fire-lit eyes.

And Malvoria had done the unthinkable.

She had let her live.

Malvoria exhaled, forcing the thought aside.

It didn't matter.

She had saved Elysia because she was hers—her wife, her queen. That was all.

Nothing more.

Absolutely nothing more.

...And yet, as Elysia sat there, still pouting slightly, Malvoria felt the unmistakable urge to poke at her.

Just a little.

Maybe it would ease the tension.

Maybe it would make Elysia less angry.

Or maybe Malvoria just enjoyed watching her get even more irritated.

With an air of complete indifference, Malvoria leaned back slightly, arms crossing over her chest.

"You should pout more often," she mused.

Elysia snapped her gaze to her, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Excuse me?"

Malvoria smirked. "It suits you."

Elysia's nostrils flared. "I do not pout."

Malvoria raised a brow. "No?"

"No."

"Hm."

Malvoria said nothing more, simply watching as Elysia seethed.

The way her fingers twitched, as if resisting the urge to throw something. The way her shoulders squared, preparing for another retort.

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Gods.

This was too easy.

Elysia, ever predictable, let out a sharp huff. "You are infuriating."

Malvoria grinned. "I try."

Elysia exhaled sharply, picking up a piece of bread from the tray and aggressively biting into it.

Malvoria watched in amusement, saying nothing.

The silence stretched, filled only by the quiet sounds of Elysia eating—though with far more aggression than necessary.

Eventually, she finished.

Malvoria, without a word, picked up the tray and set it aside.

Elysia was still staring at her.

Still angry.

Still irritated.

But...

There was something else in her eyes.

Something calculating.

Something dangerous.

Malvoria barely had time to react before Elysia moved.

A blur of motion—quick, precise, trained.

Malvoria felt the shift before she even processed it, her body tensing on instinct, muscles coiling for defense—

And then, suddenly—

She was on her back.

Pinned.

Elysia straddled her waist, her hands firm against Malvoria's wrists, pressing them into the bed.

Malvoria blinked.

Well.

This was unexpected.

Elysia leaned in slightly, her breath warm against Malvoria's skin.

Then, her lips curled into a wicked smirk.

"That," she murmured, her voice smooth, controlled, dangerous, "is how I could kill you."

Malvoria stared up at her.

And then—

She laughed.

Elysia's smirk didn't waver. If anything, it sharpened, her green eyes glinting in the dim candlelight, flickering shadows dancing across her sharp features. There was a storm in her gaze—bold, untamed, and utterly unyielding.

"I'm serious," she murmured, voice low, deliberate, like the strike of a match. "You shouldn't let your guard down."

Malvoria tilted her head slightly, watching her, amusement curling at the edges of her lips.

Serious?

The arrogance in Elysia's stance, the way her grip on Malvoria's wrists tightened—it was almost impressive, really.

But also... cute.

Malvoria almost wanted to indulge her.

Almost.

Then, in the blink of an eye, she moved.

Fluid. Effortless.

One sharp twist, one precise shift of weight—

And suddenly, Elysia was the one beneath her.

Her back hit the mattress, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as Malvoria pinned her down. The impact sent a ripple through the sheets, the fabric whispering against Elysia's skin, heat pooling where Malvoria's body pressed against hers.

The air between them thickened, humming with tension—electric, dangerous, intoxicating.

Malvoria leaned over her, pressing Elysia's wrists into the sheets with ease, her fingers wrapped around them like iron and silk. Her strength was undeniable, but there was no cruelty in her grip, only control.

The barest hint of warmth seeped from her fingertips, a silent reminder of the power she held. Her breath ghosted over Elysia's cheek, a deliberate tease of distance and proximity.

Elysia froze, her breath catching, chest rising and falling with measured restraint.

Malvoria smirked.

"Right," she murmured, lowering her head until her lips brushed against the curve of Elysia's throat, the barest whisper of contact—a slow descent into something inevitable.

A slow, deliberate kiss.

Her lips pressed against Elysia's skin, firm yet teasing, lingering just long enough to send heat coiling through her veins.

The sensation was maddening—soft, searching, claiming. Her mouth traveled lower, a languid path marked by the feather-light drag of her teeth, the teasing press of her tongue.

"You would be dead if I wanted to."

Elysia shivered.

It was brief—barely noticeable—but Malvoria felt it. The faintest tremor beneath her touch, a flicker of vulnerability hidden beneath all that fire. A moment of hesitation, just enough to make Malvoria's smirk widen.

But then—

Elysia fought.

She twisted beneath her, muscles flexing, her legs shifting in a desperate attempt to find leverage to break free.

Her breath came quicker now, lips parted in concentration, her body arching in defiance against Malvoria's weight. But there was no real desperation in it, no true panic—only a refusal to surrender so easily.

Malvoria let her struggle for a moment, watching, waiting, feeling the tension coil in Elysia's body.

Then, just as Elysia nearly managed to throw her off, Malvoria pressed down.

A sharp gasp.

Elysia stilled, her pulse hammering against Malvoria's lips where they still hovered just below her jaw.

Malvoria chuckled, the sound rich, dark, vibrating against Elysia's throat.

She tilted her head slightly, her lips ghosting just beneath Elysia's jaw, her breath hot against flushed skin.

"You're persistent," she murmured, amusement dancing in her voice, smooth as velvet, sharp as a blade.

Elysia glared, green eyes blazing. "I—" She inhaled sharply as Malvoria's lips trailed lower, tracing a slow, maddening path down her neck, her weight keeping Elysia firmly in place.

Malvoria exhaled against her skin, the heat of it igniting something restless, something volatile within Elysia.

A shudder ran through her body.

The fight was still there.

But it was slipping.

Slowly.

Malvoria smirked against her throat, the curve of her lips brushing tantalizingly against the sensitive skin.

"Maybe I should give you a punishment for trying to kill me."

Elysia swallowed hard, but her glare didn't fade.

Malvoria chuckled again, a dark promise woven into the sound.

She would enjoy this.